The Empire Estate
by Bloodcider
Summary: An Isolated Manor in the wilderness of Mississippi, "The Empire Estate", owned and operated by Umbrella inc., has become subject to an unthinkable nightmare.
1. Part 1

Thanks to the players of the RPG this has been based on, Special Thanks to SkortchedUtopia for her/his great writting which I have included. (Jonatha)  
  
-Bloodcider  
  
------  
  
Rainer tapped a few buttons on the keyboard and the images on the screens changed. Not that there was much to see on the multiscreened survallence system. Just a few dead bodies and a virus carrier here and there. Rainer let out a sigh, he didn't expect the infected to take over that quickly.   
  
He had locked himself in the security room in the 4th Basement labratory, and it was very safe in there. He hadn't had the chance to release the new hunter varients. MA-130s, most likely the best model yet. It was almost identicle to the MA-121s, except that the claws on it's right hand were about a meter long, rather than a few inches.  
  
Although, releasing the hunters wasn't a nessecity. He reached into his chest pocket and produced a small vial, filled with a dull blue liquid. The only working T-Virus antidote in existance. Umbrella would pay millions for it. That was the real nessecity.  
  
However, if he were to release the hunters on the few survivors, all he'd have to do is take a few notes. The combat data would proove useful and earn him a few extra grand on the side. He worked over the proceedure in his head a thousand times. All he would have to do was press a few buttons, takes some notes for a few hours, set the self-destruct sequence, then get out of this house of the dead. It couldn't be simpler, right?  
  
* * *  
  
Tom Anderson was all alone in this mess, no one around, locked in a room, fearing for his life. All he had was this stupid shovel as a weapon.  
  
When Tom first starting working here, he got warm welcomes from important members of Umbrella, now all he got was hard orders to follow and tight deadlines to meet, he'd heard tales so he didnt want to upset the higher-ups. He subconsiously ran a finger along the edge of the shovel, specks of dirt falling to the floor. Maybe someone was coming to save him. He could only hope and wait.  
  
* * *  
  
Alexander Thompson stood outside the old mansion in disgust. "So this is were Umbrealla does some of there shit." He said to himself. He clutched the Mp5 with sweaty palms. He was nervous about the situation. He only recently had joined the Anti-Umbrella forces recently, and after proper training, he was being sent in to get rid of this Bio-Hazard before the locals were effected.  
  
Just like in Raccoon City. He thought.  
  
He walked up onto the porch toward the door and stopped in mid-step, then dropped back. A large dog passed through the air inches from him.  
  
He stumbled and looked at the dog, or what used to be a dog. He had learned about them. Cerberus, a zombie dog.  
  
He fired a three round burst into it's face, and it went to the ground in a splash of blood. He approached the door, and took a deep breath before stepping in. The main hall was huge. A grand staircase rose up to a foyer that overlooked the whole room.  
  
Alex started to feel a chill. There were two doors to his left, and one to his right. But which one to choose? Alex's eyes strained in the dark hall and thought he could make out the form of a dead body. He jogged over to it.  
  
It was a young woman, apparantly shot to death. He didn't care, she was with Umbrella. She deserved to die.  
  
So he turned around and headed for the door that would lead to the west wing, and heared a moan behind him. The believed to be dead woman stood up and stumbled towards him.  
  
He was still in shock and she grabbed him. He pushed her back, raising the Mp5 and putting two rounds into her right eyebrow. Dark red matters flowed from the new holes as she settled to a rest on the floor.  
  
He briskly turned around and went through the western door, when he fell, smacking his head off the hardwood floor.  
  
* * *  
  
Rainer frowned as he saw a man put down one of the Cerberus's just outside the front doors. He pressed a button and the screen changed to the lobby camera. The man was already staring strait at it. Who the hell was he? Police? He wasn't in uniform. There was no sound emitting from the speakers, so either he wasn't making noise, or they were broken.  
  
Rainer pressed the a few buttons, and the camera took a picture of the man's face. He switched back to the external views. He noticed a few more of those damned dogs walking around outside. Damnit. How did they get out there? He thought to himself.  
  
It would make his escape all the more difficult. Or perhaps not. He patted the .45 Caliber Glock 21 in his hip holster.  
  
He noticed movement on the external camera's screens. Were there more people outside the mansion? He couldn't see clearly in the black and white images. Rainer's attention drifted back to the lobby camera as the man found the body of Alyssa Capone. Rainer grinned at the thought. He had tried to get a date with Alyssa a few times, and she turned him down repeatedly. She wasn't even nice about it. Putting her out of her misery had been satisfying.  
  
The man took a step toward the body and stopped, turning around and walking away.  
  
Ah, What's this..?  
  
Alyssa got up and began pursuing the man. He whirled around and she grabbed him. Rainer thought she had bitten him, but no. Judging from the brain matter spewing through the air, he shot her.  
  
I'm starting to like this guy. Too bad he'll die soon..  
  
The man walked into the next room and Rainer looked at another screen, and the man was on the floor face down. Rainer slanted his eyebrows. What happened? Did he trip? "The hell..." Rainer subconsiously muttered.  
  
* * *  
  
Knee-high in muck, stupid her for wearin' bloody riding boots, Remmington Shotgun firmly in hand, Jonatha sunk down to her thigh in swamp-mud and otherwise. Oddly enough, the tomb-boy shrieked, hoisting herself back onto semi-solid ground.  
  
"Fuckin' Christ." She hissed, sweeping at the BDU sodden material. With a disgusted sigh the woman reclaimed her current armorment, blowing red-tinted strands out of her face. An exasperated grumble and she suddenly realized...  
  
"Where am I?" Grass sloped towards the stagnate water's edge, hiding the grotesqueries beneath. Wrinkling her nose, she decided to head inland, no matter how bad the incline was. Minutes later, the vegitation thinned, leaving only the massive trunks of imposing trees looming over the traveler. And as if almost on cue, they parted, revealing an equally ominous manor. The stench never changed.  
  
"Well hell." Jonatha murmured, making a beeline for the deemed sanctuary. It would be dark within an hour or so, and the sliver of the moon wouldn't provide enough light to bloody drive. Playing dodge-ball about the clumps razor grass and ever thankful for such material as flannel, it would be only a few moments before the red-head would arrive upon the slime-slicked steps of the estate.  
  
Twigs, leaves--dirt, especially dirt--piled about the corners of the porch and to the oaken doors. She frowned, riding boots not only squishing as she walked, but crunched all of the same. Mud-caked hands wrapped around a quintessential knocker, bound in the mouth of a vicious lion-piece, bronzed, no less. Two thuds. They seemed resonate within the expanse of the mansion. Pause. Brows lifted as she pondered on the front step. No answer. Just as that same dirty hand reached out to reclaim the knocker, a growl threatened behind her.  
  
Jonatha wheeled.  
  
A dog. A doberman pinscher, no less, hackles raised as it nearly purred it's warning, lip curled. Wait a second  
  
--a rotted bark and snarl boiled from the creature's throat, taking a step closer. Those grey eyes widened when realized--  
  
it didn't have a throat ... no throat... and it's lip wasn't curled, there wasn't a lip. It seemed the creature sensed her horror and took that precise moment to leap. It's lean, sinew-exposed corpse pouncing from the base of the steps to Jonatha, curling canines anticipating to sink into the flesh of the woman's shoulder.  
  
"Fuck--" Rather than warm, pulsing meat, the hound's teeth were greeted by the filth of the shotgun. It yelped. It's jaw was already partially rotted away, the beta carotine of inscizors being jammed thickly into bone. Skidding along the porch the canine continue to whimper and mewl miserably, getting up it proceeded to shake off the blow, returning it's intention to it's desired meal. Jonatha swore. White eyes returned to the poised woman, staring down the barrel of her choice weapon. It hesitated. And continued to for a moment, occasionally growling. Clear up until something moved beyond the shadows of the trees.  
  
"Sweet Christ..." She purred pricelessly. Ironically, so, all of the same. After all, the woman was an atheist. Backing up, squinted eyes made out forms of two other hounds encroaching upon the porch. The door blocked her escape. Already loaded with buckshots and seemingly recognized by the hounds, they didn't leap for just a precious second.  
  
The door knob kneaded it's way into her back.  
  
A second later, the trio would've had splendid meal. But she had opened the door just in time to shimmy through, slamming the oaken weight against leaping bodies. Thusly, they were left scratching and howling at the doors, Jonatha deemed safe within the expanse of the fouyer. Dark. God, it was dark. Perhaps, that was a good thing.   
  
* * *  
  
Why don't we just get a party going here? Rainer thought.  
  
A woman was approaching the side of the house, and Rainer could see her clearly from the porch camera. She was weilding a shotgun, and a goodlooking one at that.  
  
Rainer suddenly remembered the dogs that were roaming the woods outside the mansion.  
  
"Good luck." He said to himself.  
  
Rainer pushed the chair back and stood up, stretching. He let out a yawn. This was all getting quite tiresome. Maybe he would let the MA-130s out and spice things up a bit. He could wait though. His eyes danced across the screens, and he noticed a researcher still alive in one of the rooms. Tom...something. He couldn't remember, and frankly didn't care. The scientist was holding a shovel, locked inside one of the rooms. Rainer couldn't tell which one. He wanted to get this night over with though, and get his money. He began to grin again. As long as these people didn't interferre he'd be fine. Just fine. And if they did...  
  
Well, he wasn't to hesitant of shooting another person.   
  
* * *  
  
Alex came out of his haze as he felt warm red liquid trinckling from a cut in his forehead. He climbed to his feet, and soon sat down again. He was too dizzy, god knows how long he'd been out. He pulled out a picture of him and hir girlfriend Cindy, sitting on a beach down in Florida. It was taken over a year ago.  
  
Alex snapped out of his daze as he heard gunshots outside. He climbed to his feet and limped away, not wanting confrontation. He burst through the door at the opposite side of the dinning hall he was just in, almost landing in the hands of a virus carrier.  
  
He lifted the Mp5,letting loose a single bullet into it's virus ridden brain. He stepped over the corpse and went into the first door on his left.  
  
It appeared to be a sort of study. He locked to door behind him, and sat down at the desk in the room. One hand clasped the wound on his head as the other rummaged through the drawers for a makeshift bandage.  
  
He turned up with pens, a paper clip, gum, and a diary. That was about it.  
  
He flipped through the pages of the diary.  
  
* * *  
  
Tom had decided to pack up his fears and run, he exited the room and nearly steam-rolled a zombie.  
  
"Uhng" it moaned, it had seen him.  
  
"Crap!" He shouted, lifting the shovel, he swung it at the carriers head and knocked it clean off.  
  
He was breathing hard, then he noticed a security camera, he went up to it, he was right in front of the lens. "Screw Umbrella" he thought and ripped the camera off the wall, and threw it to the ground.  
  
He then noticed a 9mm Berreta, laying on the floor. He scooped it up and checked its clip, it had a full mag in it. He cocked it and got ready to try and escape.  
  
* * *  
  
Rainer winced as one of the screens burst into snow. He pressed a button, and switched to the camera at the other end of the hall.  
  
Well, well, well....Mr. Anderson... Rainer thought.  
  
Tom Anderson, he believed his name was, stood at the end of the hall holding what looked like a pistol. Rainer looked back at the next screen to see the man who tripped wasn't on the floor anymore, he had left somewhere. He then noticed the lights in the main hall were out. He turned to the computer at his left side and opened up the lighting system control program. Within a few seconds, every light in the house flicked on, including the floodlights that spilled across the front yard.  
  
His eyes danced over the screens and he saw the morbid horror within the once dark halls. Blood splashes, shell casings, dead bodies...  
  
He suddenly seemed to have a change of heart about what he was doing  
  
-that is, until he felt the small vial in his pocket.  
  
Keep it togeather Rainer, in a few hours you'll be a multimillionare, kicking it in the Carribbean. His mind nagged at him.  
  
"Yes. I will." He said. "I will..." 


	2. Part 2

* * *  
  
"Now this is going a little too far. Is there a big neon sign out there that says 'GUNCLUB MEETING'?" Rainer said aloud.  
  
Yet another person had entered the mansion through the lobby. He breifly spoke with the woman, before heading upstairs. This was getting extremly tiresome. Rainer stood, and left the room. Outside in the hall was a single virus carrier in stained lab clothes.  
  
"Ungh" It complained.   
  
Rainer took out his Glock and shot it in the face. Blood smacked against the wall behind it, and liquids trickled down it's face as it collapsed. He stepped over the body, disgusted with the rotten smell. He rounded the corner and opened a glass door leading into labratory C. Awaiting him there was a breifcase.  
  
Rainer cleared off the table with his forearm, knocking papers and other things to the floor. He set the breifcase down and opened it. Inside was several vials, plastic bags, and a paper. It was tissue samples for the Hunter 130s, and a breif documentation the lab boys had put togeather.  
  
On the farside of the room was an 11 foot stasis cell. Within it was the Prototype Tyrant that had been under development in the labs. It was deemed a failure, but Rainer didn't know why. All he knew is that he was both insulted by White Umbrella because some asshole hit the wrong button, costing them millions.  
  
The Tyrant was a cross between a normal Tyrant seeker, and a Licker. The foul beast with the impossibly long tounge. It was very disgusting looking. No wonder they deemed it a failure. It looked like it would fall apart if it tried to stand up.  
  
Both of it's arms were nearly bare bone, covered in a thin red muscle, ending in Tyrant like claws on both hands. It's legs were of the same fasion, withought the claws.  
  
It's chest was impossibly thin, it's ribcage almost exposed. It's head was the most gruesome.  
  
It had no eyes, ears or nose. Just teeth. Humanoid teeth, in a constant grin, mocking Rainer from across the room.  
  
Rainer had remembered hearing that it had something wrong with it's digestive system, and would starve to death, even if it ate.  
  
Apparently, food couldn't reach it's stomach.  
  
"Piece of shit." Rainer said to it, before closing the breifcase, and walking out of the room. He still had to go to the B3 Generator room, activate the self-destruct sequence. He was going to make this. He had to.   
  
* * *  
  
As Ethan entered through the back door, he immediatly noiced a woman. "Freeze." He said, raising the baretta to eye level. "Jesus!" she yelled before running away. "Wait!" Ethan said, chasing after her through the blood smeared halls. He lost track of here in the rat maze of a mansion. He felt lost, alone, until he saw his friend, and teammate Alex meandering through the halls. A broad smile appeared on Alex's face as he saw Ethan.  
  
"Spike, good to see you man!" Alex said.  
  
Spike had been Ethan's nickname for as long as he could remember. He didn't even know who made it up. One day, people just began calling him it.  
  
"Yeah, good to see you too Al." He replied. "Any luck on the lab entrance?"  
  
"None at all." Alex said, frowning.  
  
"I saw a female scientist. I thought she could lead me to the labs, but she ran off." Ethan said.  
  
"Lets try to find her." Alex said.  
  
"Okay, but lets split up, we can cover more ground that way."  
  
"Yes sir." Alex said, spinning on his heel and heading the opposite way.  
  
* * *  
  
Rainer had reached the boiler room doors. As he reached for the handle, he noticed something. A circular indent next to the door, half filled with a crest, showing half a sun's head.  
  
"What..no...they didn't. They didn't! There's no reason to lock down the room...they didn't!"  
  
The small indent was part of a locking mechanism. Since the other half of the sun's head was gone, he couldn't get in. The piece could be anywhere, and anyone of the assholes roaming the grounds could have found it already.  
  
"Fuck!" Rainer yelled, turning around. He ran to the large steel door at the end of the hall and opened it, greeted by a large staircase leading up to B2.  
  
He began his ascent.   
  
* * *  
  
On his way to the labs Tom had encountered few virus carriers, most were his former collegues. He was just about to go down the stairs to B2, when he heard voices, and footsteps of someone or something running. He ducked to the side as the facility supervisor, Mr. Rainer, stormed by. Tom tilted his head as he saw that he was in such a hurry. He quickly slipped into the labs before the door snapped shut behind him.  
  
* * *  
  
Alex walked away from Spike, looking around for the woman scientist. "Hello? Miss? We're here to help!" He spoke aloud. No answer. He continued on, shooting a virus carrier that got in his way, an stepping over it's corspe.  
  
There was a sudden shrill scream from the room next to him, and Alex kicked in the door. He almost jumped back in horror. The woman was cowering in the corner from..a monster.  
  
It was like a normal man, but..inside out. It was skinless, it's hands and feet ending in claws. It had no eyes or ears. It's brain, however, was exposed.  
  
Alex noticed its tounge sliding out of it's mouth. Out, and out, and out. It began to poke at the face of the woman, even though she was several feet away.  
  
Alex wasted no time in firing at it. A jagged line split open it's brain and dark juices spilled out. It collapsed to the floor, spasiming a tattoo of blood on the carpet before laying to rest.  
  
Alex looked at the woman. "You okay?"  
  
* * *  
  
Rainer stepped out of the thouroghly destroyed office. He had tore it apart looking for the Half-Crest, but it wasn't there. He tried to think of where it could be. There was a study up on the second floor. He could check in there. He exited the hall through a door to his right, walking through a dinning room and entering the main hall.  
  
He walked over to Alyssa Capone's body. "Stupid Bitch." He said, kicking her. He was satisfied by the sound of ribs cracking.  
  
He ascended the flight of stairs and went into the door leading from the balcony to the east wing. He began down the hall when he heard someone walking rather loudly past. He jumped to the side and crouch down next to a cabinent. Soon enough, one of those tresspassers blundered by.  
  
Normally, Rainer would have shot him right then and their, but there were others.  
  
When the man dissapeared from sight, Rainer continued on. The sound of gunshots ahead startled him. He rounded a corner just in time to see a man putting down a virus carrier.  
  
He kicked in a door and fired more shots. "You macho little shit." Rainer thought as he snuck up behind the man. "You okay?" The man said.  
  
Rainer sliped behind the man and put the Glock to his head.  
  
"You're not. Now drop your weapons and put your hands up, if you don't mind." Rainer said, rather harsher than he expected.  
  
"And who the hell are you?" Replied the man.  
  
"No questions, just action and fast." Rainer said, pressing the glock harder.  
  
The man reluctantly dropped his SMG. It clattered to the marble floor. He turned around to face Rainer. "I need to know." Rainer said. "Have you seen any sort of crest with half a suns face on it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You could be a very rich man if you give it to me."  
  
"I told you, I don't have it."  
  
"Fine then."  
  
Rainer pushed the gun forward and turned his wrist, hitting the man in the forhead with the butt of the gun, knocking him to the floor. Rainer stared at the woman crouched in the corner, one of the scientists..Ellen something...  
  
He turned around and ran out the door.   
  
* * *  
  
She nearly jumped out of her skin when suddenly lights flickered--glass shattered and the room dimmed again. Instinctively when the bulbs blew, she covered her head from shards of glass to prevent any unnessecary injury. Hmph. A few lights had managed to sustain themselves to offer some insight into the expanse of her so-called refuge. Brows arched.  
  
"Go figure. Only abandoned mansion in all of Mississippi." She grumbled, ignoring the gnawing protests of angered dogs. Leaving muddy foot-prints in the foyer, the woman made her way to the banister, clever grey eyes scanning the scape. Puffs of archaic dust rose as she walked only furthered her dishoveled appearance, the air moldy yet somehow--dry. Nothing made much of a noise as riding boots aided her ascent upwards in the mansion, careful not to drag the firearm too low.  
  
"Hello?" A faint hope of somebody else glimmered. Nope. Nothing registered as a sound. Hope was squelched as she continued her climb, breath coming a little hard to her. The air was impossibly thick with god knew what--she winced, consigning herself to breath through her mouth. As a child Jonatha had suffered from Asthma and even though she grew out of it, it wasn't uncommon for a person to have re-occuring side effects. Shortness of breath was one of them. Quiet reflection shortened the strain on her body.  
  
Acrid. Foul. As soon as she'd arrived on the landing the air had changed from moldy to--was that rotting flesh? A wince, the woman immediately covered her mouth with her flannel shirt, cringing as she glanced around. Just beyond a healthy looking plant legs jutted out. Legs. Rats gnawing away at--human. Legs. Limbs. HUMAN.   
  
"Sweet Christ!" She mewled, oblivious to the looming creature just feet behind her, perched in a recess of a rafter. Gagging on her own oxygen, she whipped around and made a bee-line back down to the main hall--a sick thud slid down behind her. The poor woman hadn't even a moment to bolster her body as she skidded on her heel, shotgun leading her line of site. Hunched over, viciously grinning, dear Christ, did it have claws? a Licker perched, precious few feet up the stairs. Grey oculars widened, voice los--  
  
"Ugh." The woman cried, suddenly finding herself at the base of the stairs. Her ears rang, her ribs cursed at her--a corpse slumped in the middle of the stairwell. Decrepit yet unanimated. Blood oozed. Blood. Memory flashed.  
  
She'd pumped the gun with deadly precision. But that's when that thin--brain-exposed creature had lept at her, a lolling tounge just as frightening as the rest of it. Impulse had almost killed her--but at the same time, saved her when she pulled the trigger. Jonatha edged herself up on her elbows. That's why her ears rang--but why was she down here? Had it been the recoil?  
  
Slowly, those grey eyes scanned down her body.  
  
Jonatha screamed.  
  
The thing had slashed a vicious streak across that chest, her clothing tatters. Human terror proscribed her from looking at the wound directly. But--but! But blood slicked everything--how had there been so much? The red-head began sobbing uncontrollably, wanting to hug herself--but it hurt so much! Christ--it hurt!  
  
"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god..." Chanted Jonatha, almost trying to crawl away from her own body. "Oh god, oh god.. god, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts--oh god, oh god, oh god..." trembling fingers gathered the tatters and parted them, tears streaking down that sweat/blood/mud-covered face. Her chest was mere ribbons, four or five strips of quivering flesh cut clear down to the sternum. Even what little cleavage she did own, christ--"Oh my god.. god, god, god, fuckin' god.. fuck... shit... oh god..." her stream of pleas changed into string of swearing, the woman still crawling backward until her back hit cool marble of the wall. Ragged breaths between sobs soon brought the woman into shock, adrenaline kicking in to ease her panic. The pain dulled for a precious moment, the throbbing surceasing long enough for the woman to assess her situation. Still shaking, another glance at her torso made her grimace. Fuck.  
  
"I gotta... I gotta get... get help..." She whimpered, nearly panting. The ache streaked across her body when she wobbily rose, using the wall for support. Not at all stupid enough to leave her gun--Shit! Nearly falling as soon as she tried to stand on her own, she hugged the wall, the cool surface a relief to flushed cheeks. There was a door just beneath the second story--cardinal senses telling the red-headed woman it was to the east. Perhaps, God! A phone--please let there be a phone. It was so hard just to open the door--her hands were numbing. Lightheaded, the woman took one wiff of the air behind that hall--it slammed, and she slid down it's frame.  
  
All the woman could do was weep--shotgun firmly in hand.  
  
* * *  
  
Alex came out of his daze and felt a surge of pain in his forehead. "Son of a bitch!" he screamed invouluntarily. He glanced around in a haze of red to see the girl wasn't there. He rolled over onto his side and passed out again.   
  
* * *  
  
Rainer stopped in mid jog after he heard the explosion of a shotgun echoing through the halls. It was hard to tell which direction the shot had come from. "Must have been the woman." He said to himself.  
  
Rainer opened another one of the many doors in the labarinth of halls that made the Empire Estate. It was a small bedroom. Rainer immediatly checked the obvious places for the crest.  
  
Behind paintings, in books, under the matress.  
  
Then he moved to the unobvious places. In the desk, in the garbage bucket, under pillows.  
  
Nothing. It wasn't in this room. Rainer cryed out in fury ashe kicked te lamp off the desk. It hit the floor and shattered, plunging the room into darkness. He stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.  
  
He rounded the corner in the hall and landed in the hands of a virus carrier. It's bony, dry fingers brushed at his face and he put the glock to it's chin, pulling the trigger. He backed off as fluids splashed out of it's head.  
  
He kicked the thing as he walked by, exiting the hall through the door and into the balcony over looking the main hall.  
  
He immediatly assessed the situation.  
  
A dead Licker collapsed on the stairs. Bloodsplatters at the bottom of the stairs, with a trail leading to the west wing door. Rainer cautiously walked down the stairs and followed the smeer of blood. He opened the door and out fell a woman. Maybe in her mid twenties. Red hair and grey eyes. Her chest was torn up and bleeding like a stuck pig. She was unconcious, probably passed out from bloodloss.  
  
Rainer winced as he picked her up, cleaning of the dining table that took up the whole room, and placing her on it. She was very dirty, caked with mud and different parts of plants, asside from the blood.  
  
He gently removed the flannel jacket she wore and wrapped it across her bleeding torso, trying to create some type of pressure to cut off the blood flow. He saw the shotgun lying on the floor and realized who she was.  
  
He picked it up and proped it up in a chair next to her.  
  
He felt bad for her. The people who died that worked here, they knew what the were fucking with. But this girl was a civilian, she didn't deserve this.  
  
In a final act of good faith, Rainer took off his suit jacket and placed it over her.  
  
He briskly left the room. The infirmiry has hemostatic medicine and other supplies. 


End file.
